Secret Santa
by luvsbitca
Summary: Stiles comes home to find an envelope on his door. Inside is an anonymous gift…is his Secret Santa ever going to be revealed?
1. Chapter 1

**Title – **Secret Santa  
**Author – **Moonbeam  
**Summary – **Stiles comes home to find an envelope on his door. Inside is an anonymous gift…is his Secret Santa ever going to be revealed?  
**Warnings – **Nada  
**Rating – **Teen – I was debating…porn for Christmas?  
**Disclaimer – **I don't own anything, but oh the fun that could be had if I did.  
**Author's Notes – **And this year's cliché for Christmas is…Secret Santa (anonymous gift giving).

This is going to be short. I swear this is going to be short. Not like my short big bang which hit 60K but actually short, and finished by Christmas. Spaghettitacos is running the pool of how deluded I am. Enjoy…

**Secret Santa**  
by Moonbeam

Stiles came back to his room to find an envelope stuck to the door. It was large, the size of a piece of paper and industrial yellow. _Stiles_ was written across it in looping…Stiles didn't even want to call that handwriting – it looked too nice to be handwriting and it certainly wasn't familiar.

Stiles pulled it off the door and let himself in. His roommate was nowhere to be seen so Stiles threw his bag on the bed, plugged his iPhone in to play music and pulled his assignment out of his bag. He settled down to work and completely forgot about the envelope until Nathan, his roommate, opened the door and he was yanked out of his studying mode. Stiles walked over to his bed and flopped back into the covers, the envelope crinkling under his backside. Stiles twisted around and yanked it from under him.

"What's that?" Nathan asked, stripping off without a thought to Stiles not really wanting to see him naked.

Stiles shrugged. "No idea, it was on the door."

"Then open it."

"Then put on pants."

Nathan laughed at him and turned to standing in front of his cupboard naked. Stiles rolled his eyes – he really wished Nathan wore underwear. Stiles focussed on the envelope and slide the flap up. Inside were a laminated piece of paper and a slip of lined white paper.

He opened the letter first, the same elegant writing that was on the front of the envelope scrawled over the paper.

_Stiles,_

_We're coming up to Christmas and this time of year makes me think of you._

_I don't feel comfortable giving gifts, and perhaps I have grown unaccustomed to doing so. So, I'm going give this to you anonymously. _

_Just know that even though I have not signed this you are cared for and you are important to people._

_Have a Merry Christmas, Stiles. You deserve it. _

_Santa_

Stiles frowned at the letter and then looked at the laminated sheet. It was a certificate to mark a donation made in his name to the Breast Cancer Foundation. Stiles bit down on his lip and felt the old, familiar ache he always had when he thought about his mum and her death. He gave to them twice a year, on her birthday and the anniversary of her death but he had never talked about it to anyone. His father had never said anything when his pocket money would disappear around those dates and Stiles would be hunting around the house for enough money to buy his newest comic book. Only two people knew about it at all, Scott and his father, but he had never actually told either of them.

Stiles ran a finger along the logo on the certificate and thought of the box of receipts he had with the same logo. A part of him knew he should be worried about somebody giving him presents without him knowing who they were. But, at the moment, he just didn't care. He stuck the letter and the certificate to the board over his table.

"I'm going out," Nathan said, "going to get my drink on and find someone blonde."

Stiles shook his head. "That's your only standard?"

"Yep." Nathan nodded at Stiles and left.

Stiles threw himself back onto the bed but his eyes kept drifting back to the piece of paper.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**/ / / 2 \ \ \ **

"Yo, Stiles."

"Yeah, Ben?" Stiles turned around to look at the guy who lived a couple of doors down from him. Ben was nice but perpetually stoned and could only be counted on to be sane and lucid for about twenty minutes of every day. If he caught you at other times it was a strange conversation, with way too many references to cats, that was almost impossible to extract yourself from.

"Hot guy was leaving this by your door." Ben reached into his room and held out a box that had been wrapped in plain brown paper.

"Who?"

Ben shrugged. "Never seen him before but you should really try and get his number."

"For you?"

"Nah," Ben said, with a smile. "I don't like men like that, they're too grrrrr in bed. Women are so much more mellow." Ben slipped back into his room so Stiles assumed the conversation was over.

Stiles shook his head and walked back to his room. He threw his stuff on the bed and made his way through the boxes he had already packed. He pulled the envelope off from the outside of the box. It had been almost three weeks since the last one but he still hadn't pulled the letter, or the certificate, from his board. He recognised the writing as soon as he had seen the box in Ben's hands.

The letter was shorter this time.

_Stiles, _

_I realised that perhaps my last gift did not make you smile as I intended but perhaps made you think about grief and loss. _

_I wanted you to be happy when you thought of me and my gift. _

_So, I'm giving you another one. Again it is anonymous because you do not need to know who I am to know you are amazing and you deserve so much more than you would ever ask for for yourself. _

_Congratulations on almost being a university graduate. _

_Santa_

Stiles sighed, no one had ever put this much effort into him; never. He put the paper down and unwrapped the gift, laughing when he saw what was hidden underneath.

"What's that?" Nathan asked, throwing the door open.

"A gift."

"It's a Mr Potato Head."

"It's a R2-D2 Mr Potato Head," Stiles twisted it around. "Artoo Potatoo."

Nathan nodded but Stiles could tell that he didn't really get it.

"I had one of these years ago, it was so cool but then it was destroyed." Stiles paused to think about the fight that had broken out in his bedroom when he'd been about to graduate high school. "R2-D2 was always my favourite. You just know he was sassing them all in his beeps and squeaks."

"Oh…kay."

"It's cool," Stiles defended.

"Okay."

Stiles looked down at the toy happily. "I like it."

"Whatever, dude, I'm going to the library to study. You just play with your Mr Potato Head."

"Deal!"

Stiles debated pulling the toy out of the box but in the end he caved and pulled it out to make Artoo Potatoo do things while he watched the first Star Wars on his laptop.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**/ / / 3 \ \ \ **

Stiles dropped the last of his things in the lounge room.

"Am I happy you're home?" his father asked, surveying the mess in his lounge room.

Stiles turned and smiled at him. "Of course you are, you've missed me terribly for years."

"You came home all the time."

Stiles rolled his eyes and threw himself back onto the couch. "I didn't have to come home. I could have…done something else." Stiles didn't mention that he could be in England or Turkey right now, working at universities and observatories.

Sam laughed at his son. "You're poor and you have no job."

"I had one last week," Stiles defended.

"I know, just enjoy Christmas, and then worry about becoming a useful member of society."

"Thanks, Dad."

"And clean up your mess before I get home…oh, and this was on the doorstep this morning."

Sam disappeared and came back holding a box wrapped in garish green and silver paper.

"Who?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm not sure; it was there when I went to get the paper."

"And that didn't seem strange to you?"

Sam shrugged. "I'll be at work."

"Wake me up for breakfast?"

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded and then walked over, kissed Stiles on the forehead, and slipping out of the house.

Stiles looked down at the box, turned it over and around until he found a small envelope taped to the bottom. The same writing that had been on his last two anonymous gifts was on this envelope too. Stiles put the gift down onto the coffee table and stared at it. Two gifts from someone anonymous while he was at university, a situation that almost demanded people had little privacy and everyone knew where you lived. It was different to be here, at home, so far away from university and still whoever had given him these gifts knew where he was from and where he lived and wasn't worried about the sheriff knowing anything.

Stiles thought about calling Scott but, honestly, what would the alpha be able to tell him.

He ignored the gift in favour of sorting his way through everything he had brought with him from university. He started a pile in the corner of things he could get rid of and a small mountain of washing. He knew he should have gone through everything before he'd come home but he just couldn't be bothered and he didn't really want to spend the extra time sorting when he could be home, eating his father's food.

If Stiles looked at the box every time he was in the room, and if he had to force himself not to walk over and open it constantly that wasn't something he was going to admit to himself.

When he was done, the lounge room once again clean and half his washing done the anticipation grew to be too much and he thumped down into the couch so that he could yank the small envelope from the gift.

_Stiles,_

_You are home again, I'm glad. Your father, your friends, have missed you. I've missed you. _

_Something to welcome you home and celebrate the end of your studies. _

_Santa_

Stiles recognised the hand but this time the words were small and cramped on the piece of paper. Stiles couldn't help but smile, he didn't feel worried, he didn't feel threatened. Whoever was sending him these gifts seemed nice and he had to admit that it was lovely to know that someone was thinking about him. Stiles had spent more time at university than any of the rest of his pack, going beyond his undergraduate degree and into postgraduate at the urging of his department and professors. He was glad he'd done it, he loved the experience, but at the same time he couldn't help but feel the distance that had been created between him and his friends.

Scott had never gone to university, and had strangely enough started working at the sheriff's department. Everyone else had gone off like Stiles to university, catching up in holidays and breaks. They had kept as close as they could and while they were all away doing other things Scott and Derek had somehow managed to work through their issues until they were able to tolerate one another. Neither would ever submit to being part of the other's pack, it wasn't in either of their natures even if Derek was no longer an alpha. They had managed to find a way to work next to one another which had saved the town from more than one supernatural menace. Then everyone else graduated and slowly came back, Danny tried living in New York for a while but when Jackson came back to Beacon Hills, fresh from a British university and with a decidedly smaller chip on his shoulder, Danny followed him. Lydia had held out the longest but even she hadn't been able to stay away forever, working on whatever she was working on, government contract, can't say anything, from her house and splitting her time between there and somewhere she wouldn't tell any of them about. Everyone else had come back, found jobs, found boyfriends and girlfriends, though Allison and Scott had taken to making eyes at one another across rooms for a while even they had worked everything out. Stiles had missed it all though. He knew about things because Lydia was still a lovely gossip and his favourite pack member, besides Scott, and Scott couldn't keep anything a secret if his life depended on it. But, Stiles had missed it. He'd been studying the phenomena of the universe while Boyd had been flirting with Lydia. He'd been tracking a comet while Cora had her back broken by an alpha that wanted to take Derek's and Scott's territory. He was writing his PhD when Isaac had come out to the group, terrified that they wouldn't accept him even while Danny was sitting in the middle of the couch. He had entirely missed Derek's first attempt at dating since Jennifer when he flew to England to visit the observatories there. He had slid farther and farther away from his life in the pack because he wasn't there anymore and he knew that the only reason he had even been allowed into the pack was the fact he was there. He was always there. He demanded to be heard by his mere presence.

Stiles wasn't sure how things were going to go now that he was back, now that he was actually here. Would they welcome him back in as though he had never left or would he have to fight for his place all over again? He suspected it would be the second and he wasn't sure if it was even worth having if he had to fight for it twice. Maybe he'd just take one of the jobs he'd been offered and leave again. He didn't want to, he wanted to be here with Scott and his dad and…the rest of them. More than that though, he simply didn't want to go back to being the unwanted, unnecessary, weak little human.

Stiles shook himself off and opened the wrapping paper, so much different to the paper he had seen on the last two gifts. As soon as he'd slipped the paper off one side the package fell apart in his hands. Stiles looked down to find a group of smaller wrapped boxes. He rolled his eyes, this was ridiculous. It grew stranger as he started undoing the little boxes, finding little astronomical bodies, all mounted on little wooden stands, white dwarves, large red giants, comets, moons, planets with rings, all in twos or fours. Stiles didn't even realise what it was until he opened the second last box, inside was a folded piece of paper bearing the same writing as the cards.

_King – Red Giants  
Queen – White Dwarves  
Rooks – Comets  
Bishops – Planets  
Knights – Moons  
Pawns – Stars_

_I know you used to play, perhaps one day you will play against me._

It was the first time that his Secret Santa had hinted that they would ever reveal themselves. Stiles opened the last box to find a number of stars, all mounted, and realised that the colour of the wood, dark almost ebony wood and a pale wood on the others, marked them as black and white, chess pieces. Stiles laid them all out on the table and then went upstairs to find his old board. They looked incongruous on the cheap board he had bought for himself. He set up the pieces and ran his fingers over them. He moved one of the pawns, starting a game against himself.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**/ / / 4 \ \ \ **

Scott threw his arm over Stiles' shoulder. "Dude, I'm so glad you're finally back."

"Thanks," Stiles said, shrugging Scott off so he could finish his water. "You only say that because I'm weak and human and you enjoy being strong and werewolf-y around me."

Scott shrugged and smirked at him. "Want to play another round?"

"No." Stiles shook his head. "I have a PhD; I should be left alone to grow weak and afraid of light."

"You're back with werewolves now; you're not allowed to grow weak. We haven't had the trouble we had in high school but that doesn't mean that we don't have to protect our territories still."

Stiles nodded. "I have kept myself somewhat in shape but it's a bit different going for an hour long run to playing pick-up lacrosse against an alpha werewolf."

"I was being nice."

Stiles sighed and threw himself down onto the grass. "I hate you."

"No, you don't. Hey, are you coming tonight? First full moon since you've been home. You can come and mock us while we all snarl at one another – I know how much you love that."

"I do," Stiles said, wistfully. "But, you don't need me there."

"We all want you there though," Scott said, sitting next to Stiles. "You haven't been to a full moon, a proper one, where both of the packs get together, in forever."

"You're running with Derek and Cora?"

"You're home, of course we are."

Stiles scoffed.

"Stiles, you know we all missed you. You were gone for too long."

"No chick flick moments."

Scott pushed Stiles. "Don't quote TV shows at me."

"I'll come tonight."

Scott smiled at him widely. "Excellent. Want a lift home?"

"Yeah."

Stiles climbed out of Scott's car at the other end and waved goodbye. He checked the mailbox, finding a subdued green wrapped item in there below their mail. He pulled it out, twisting it over and looking for the envelope – addressed to him in the same hand as the previous one.

He turned around to say something to Scott only to find the werewolf almost out of the driveway. He thought about calling him back but shook the idea off and pulled the rest of the mail out as well to carry inside. He dropped the mail and went straight upstairs to his room. He put the gift on his bed and then stripped off to have a fast shower. As soon as he was dressed again he threw himself down onto the bed and pulled the folded slip of paper, not a card this time just folded paper, out of the envelope.

_Stiles, _

_I know you aren't sure if you're going to stay. I hope you do. I want you to stay here and be in all of our lives. _

_I know you won't be unemployed or without purpose for long but I hope this will make it a little less boring while you are. _

_Santa_

Stiles added the paper to the board he had hung above his computer. Then he threw himself back onto his bed and pulled the wrapping paper from the gift slowly. Inside was a hardcover copy of his favourite book. He frowned down at it. Everyone knew he had a copy – it was battered and bent and there were post-it tags marking his favourite sections. He opened the book and froze for a second – seeing the thing that made this book special. There were two signatures on that first page – slashes of black with his name above them. Someone had managed to get both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman to sign the book for him. It was amazing, something he remembered saying he would like to do if he could ever get to a fan convention where he could see either of them, or both of them. He had never been able to manage it though and now his Secret Santa had done it for him.

He thought back over the other gifts and had to smile, the others were amazing but this was definitely the best one

Stiles wriggled back up to his pillows and made himself comfortable starting the book on the first page and reading until he was done.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**/ / / 5 \ \ \**

"I have to go," Stiles said, standing up. Derek looked up at him but didn't say anything tracking him with green eyes while Stiles collected his jumper and walked out of the room to put his glass in the kitchen.

"No," Lydia said, calling after him. "Don't leave me here with all of these men."

"What am I exactly?" Stiles asked her, voice loud enough to carry back into the room.

"You're Stiles."

"Thanks," Stiles scoffed. "But, I promised Dad I would come home for dinner. I'm going to make tacos."

"Mmmm, tacos," Isaac said plaintively. "I haven't had tacos in ages."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm going home and you're not invited."

"Well, how rude," Isaac said, indignantly and folded his arms over his chest.

"You could invite him here," Derek said quietly.

Stiles turned to him and smiled but shook his head. "Thanks, but, I should get going. He really looks forward to tacos since I don't look when he adds cheese."

Derek looked away from him and then a hand wrapped around his ankle. He looked down to find Cora where she was sprawled out on the mat staring up at him. "If you can break out of my grip you can leave. If you can't you have to make us all tacos and invite your dad. I like your dad, he's nice."

Stiles sighed. "We've spent the whole day together."

"But you've been away for too long," Lydia said, reaching out to grab his wrist and smirking up at him.

"You are all being ridiculous."

"We missed you," Boyd said quietly, firmly, and Stiles looked up sharply to where the other man was sitting next to Lydia. "You were at university much longer than the rest of us."

"And you are pack…at least to some of us," Scott pointed out.

Stiles smiled and then looked down at Cora apologetically. "I'll come by another day."

She pouted up at him but released her grip on him. "Lunch Thursday."

"Deal," Stiles smiled.

Cora sunk back into her position, her shoulder pressed into Isaac's calf. "You'd best have your appetite too; I expect cake."

"Then take me somewhere that has cake," Stiles threw back.

"Mmmm, cake," Isaac said.

"I'll see you all later." Stiles waved and walked out, grabbing his jacket on the way out of the door.

He drove home, in the second hand jeep he'd bought after his old blue one had died, and thought back over the last week. He had gone for the full moon, the pack had all turned and run but they'd spent so much of their time circling him, dragging him into their games and involving him. Except for Derek. Everything in the pack had always been _except for Derek_. Derek had kept his distance while the rest of the wolves had been crowding him. Even Jackson, who had admittedly come back from Europe less obnoxious than he'd left, had been sticking quite close to Stiles that night. Since then they had all been seeking him out. Like a switch had been turned over. When he'd first got back it was Lydia and Scott – like it had always been – but after that night Danny would come around, Cora would demand that Stiles went to see some movie with her. Jackson had, admittedly, just come along with Danny but he'd been there as well. Today had been the first time Stiles had seen Derek since the full moon though. He'd been off somehow. Stiles shook his head – he had well and truly worked his way out of that particular crush years ago because he was smart and Derek was the worst person in the world to have a crush on. He refused to now get suckered back into trying to work Derek, and his brain, out.

Stiles had expected Scott's pack to welcome him back because regardless of what Isaac liked to think as the first _werewolf_ member of the pack Stiles was the original member of the pack – he was the reason they had an alpha and that he was still alive. Stiles was possessive of his friendship with Scott and his place in Scott's pack – he was his oldest friend and Stiles wasn't going to let that go without a fight, or a lot of pouting and bitching. Stiles had been expecting the exact opposite from Derek's pack. Derek might not be an alpha any longer but he was certainly the head of his little pack. Stiles had been expecting Derek to push him away and demand that his pack did as well. Yet, this morning when Cora had called him it was to go to Derek's house – rebuilt on another part of the Hale land. Stiles had been hesitant to even come in but Derek had nodded hello in an almost welcoming manner. The electric blue eyed beta had watched him the whole day, Stiles would look up and Derek was staring at him. It was off-putting but it didn't have that same fuck off vibe that it had had when they'd first met…actually, the length of Stiles' high school years when he'd known Derek.

Stiles shook his head. He liked the fact he had been welcomed by both packs but he wasn't expecting it to last. He and Cora had grown close over the years, especially after she and Derek had finally returned to Beacon Hills after their little trip. He certainly hadn't been expecting the welcome he'd received from the packs, and he didn't expect it to last, but he was enjoying it.

Stiles turned into his driveway, the sheriff's car wasn't there yet so Stiles slipped straight inside without checking for the mail and threw his jacket off. He turned music on loud and set himself to cooking dinner. His father's shift was supposed to have ended an hour ago and he had left Derek's too late so he'd expected his dad to be back already. He had missed him in the last few years. Phone calls and skype and visits just didn't make up for missing the only member of his family that he had left.

"I smell food." Stiles heard the voice before he realised that someone was in the house.

"I'm cooking."

"You got something in the mail too, must be a Christmas present."

"We're having tacos."

"I got your message."

"How many deputies did you have to ask to open it for you?"

His father walked into the kitchen and looked at him. "I know how to check my own text messages."

Stiles smiled at his dad. "I don't believe you."

"Just for that I'm not cutting the lettuce. I'm going up to have a quick shower instead."

"Okay," Stiles said, saluting his dad with the wooden spoon before he turned back to what he was doing.

He finished cooking, and watched the cheese like a hawk, until the tacos were ready to go.

"You do understand that I'm more than capable of moderating my own diet."

Stiles looked at his father. "You like cheese and bacon too much. I'm not losing you to cholesterol."

"My cholesterol is fine as is my blood pressure and I will get documents from the doctor to support everything I just said."

"Fine, I'll look the other way for two of your tacos then."

Sam sighed and looked at his son. "I love you too."

Stiles beamed at him and took his plate over to the table.

They talked about Stiles prospects – at the moment nothing, and their plans for Christmas – Stiles cooking, like usual, and doing as little as humanly possible. Sam always worked Christmas night but the morning and lunch were theirs. Stiles used to go to Melissa's for dinner, spending the evening with the only other family he had – Scott and his mother.

"Are you going to open your present?" Sam asked, nodding at the brown wrapped parcel he'd put on the edge of the table.

"You just want a third taco."

Sam sighed. "When are you leaving?"

Stiles smiled at him. "Don't act like Sophie at the station doesn't let you eat doughnuts."

"You're my son not my dietician."

Stiles knew neither of them would say it, they wouldn't stop doing this, they would never stop making the same arguments because Sam was all Stiles had left and the same went both ways. Stiles knew his father was healthy, if he wasn't then Stiles would really have to worry and then he would get serious about more exercise and a strict diet. For now, they would keep doing this and Stiles would try not to get killed by anything supernatural, or mundane, for as long as he could help it.

"I'm having another taco, open your gift."

Stiles nodded and reached over for the package. He was expecting it to be something from one of his university friends – there were a few of them that he was still close with and they exchanged stupid gifts every year. He froze when he saw the writing on the package though. This one was different; it had been mailed, and his address was written in the same hand as the other gifts that he had received. He pulled the string that was wrapped around it off and then undid the brown paper carefully. It was soft and giving under his hands and as soon as the sticky tape had been pulled away he found a mass of multi-coloured wool on the table in front of him. He dug through until he found the card; the outside was red with a bright green Christmas tree and inside was a note in the same, familiar hand. The handwriting was so neat, looping and precise and Stiles wished he could say he recognised it but no one he knew had handwriting like that.

_Stiles, _

_I don't always think you realise how much you make everything better. I don't always have much to say, I know that you don't always hear what I omit when I do speak. You are so important to me, to the people in your life, and I think we take you for granted. Everyone who knows you wants to know you better and we all think you are important. You remind me of someone else that is always fixing other people's messes so I made this for you. You might not be a Doctor, or a superhero but you have done more good than anyone else I can think of. _

_Santa_

Stiles stretched the wool out until he could see the whole length of material.

"Is that Dr Who's scarf?" His dad asked, coming back with two tacos.

Stiles nodded dumbly. "It is."

"Who sent it?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I…I have a secret admirer," Stiles said, looking up at his dad. "I keep getting these gifts from someone. They seem to know me, I mean, not that many people know I dressed up like Dr Who for three Halloweens in a row or that I wore that scarf until it fell apart."

"Do you know who it is?"

Stiles shook his head and handed his father the card. "All I get is these, they are all sighed Santa, and they are all messages like that."

"Do you suspect anyone?"

Stiles pulled the long, striped scarf over and wrapped it around his neck. "No one makes any sense and I think I've thought of everyone."

His father looked thoughtful but silent as he stared at the scarf around Stiles' neck.

**TBC…**

I would be very curious to know who you think Stiles' Secret Santa is.


	6. Chapter 6

**/ / / 6 \ \ \ **

Stiles opened the mailbox wondering if there was going to be something inside – there wasn't just a stack of envelopes. One of them was an envelope from his university. He tucked the rest under his arm and pulled open the official looking packet. Inside were a stack of papers and Stiles had to frown as he flicked through them.

Stiles walked back into the house and spread them out over the dining room table and then started organising them.

"What came in the…what's all this?"

"Job offers."

Sam sat down across from Stiles and looked down at the paper. "This is a bit strange."

Stiles nodded. "All passed on by my PhD advisor. I haven't had a chance to read them yet though."

"But they are all job offers."

Stiles nodded. "According to Jim, my advisor, he's been bragging about me to a number of his colleagues and now they want me."

Sam smiled. "I never thought you'd last here for very long but this is too fast."

"I haven't said yes to any of them."

"But one of them is going to be a great fit and then you'll want to go." Sam took a deep breath and shook his head. "Which of course you should and I fully support you."

"And once more with feeling," Stiles said with a grin.

Sam twisted one of the piles of paper around. "This one is from Prague."

"Yeah…" Stiles was wondering if his father would see the ones from Belgium, Scotland or Australia and he was kind of hoping that he wouldn't; at least not yet. Stiles started packing them up into a pile.

"You should read them first. I'll make us some lunch."

"Dad."

"I don't want you to move to Prague but I promise that I will come and visit – maybe I'll come and stalk you when I retire."

Stiles smiled at him. "I'm not sure it's stalking if I want you to come."

"Your friends might have more a problem with it."

Stiles shrugged and slipped the papers back into the envelope.

"I was serious, you need to read them and unless you have other plans do it now. I'll keep you in food and drink."

"I'm not ready to leave."

"But you need to know what is on offer." Sam said, he stood up and laid a hand on Stiles' shoulder before going into the kitchen and opening the fridge. Stiles sighed and pulled out the first stack of paper.

-)(-)(-

Stiles slid the last of the job offers into the envelope and dropped his head down onto the table.

"Alcohol or something weaker."

"Scotch," Stiles asked, not lifting his head.

Stiles could hear his father walking back into the kitchen and then there was a thunk next to his ear as the tumbler was placed on the table.

"Alcohol isn't a way to deal with stress."

"I want them all, but I don't want to move away yet, and…I never expected offers like that."

"I tried to read your thesis," Sam said, causing Stiles to look up. "I didn't understand most of it but I think that means it's good."

Stiles laughed. "Thank you."

Sam shrugged. "It's what dads do."

"Does that mean I can start asking you to refer to me as Doctor Stiles?"

"No," his father laughed.

The doorbell rang, yanking them out of the moment and Stiles pushed himself up. He opened the door but no one was there, he took a step back and realised there was something on the mat at his feet. Stiles stooped over to pick it up and instantly recognised the writing.

"Berkley or Caltech," Sam said, when Stiles walked back in. "Both brilliant choices and both close enough for car trips instead of a plane."

"What happened to visiting me when you're retired?"

"I changed my mind and I don't want you to go."

"Okay."

Sam sighed. "I'm proud of you and anything you want to do you'll be amazing."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles said, putting the green and red envelope on top of the one he was pretending didn't exist.

"Another present from your Secret Admirer?"

"Secret Admirer?"

"Why else would someone be going to all of this trouble?" Sam asked his son, expression serious.

"Well…I mean, obviously they…want me to be happy?"

Sam frowned at his son.

"I don't know who they are."

"Hence the **secret** part of Secret Admirer."

"You honestly think that is why they're doing it?"

Sam shrugged. "I think it's possible."

"I'll allow possible," Stiles said, pulling the envelope closer to him and opening it as carefully as he could.

"What is it?"

Stiles shrugged. "I haven't opened it yet."

"Then hurry up."

Stiles laughed and pulled the paper out of the envelope. He always liked to read the card first, savouring the words before he looked at the present. The words meaning more to him than the presents did. He had a feeling that his father wouldn't enjoy the note as much as Stiles would so he went for the heavy, gloss paper rather than the lined paper. Unfolding it he saw the logo first and couldn't help the smile that spread over his face.

"What?" Sam asked, again.

"I'm going skydiving."

His father looked less than pleased.

"I've always wanted to go skydiving."

"I know, you begged me to send you for your twenty-first."

"And you gave me money towards a new car instead."

"That's not exactly gratitude."

"I thanked you and I didn't spend it on a dive."

"And now someone else wants you to jump out of a perfectly good plane?"

"And I want to; this is going to be brilliant!"

Sam frowned at him.

"It's completely safe, Dad."

"Perfectly good plane."

"You're a cop."

"And you hang out with werewolves, that's not enough of an adrenaline rush?"

Stiles shook his head, smiling. He left the gift certificate between he and his father while he unfolded the lined paper bearing the familiar writing.

_Stiles,_

_I remember you saying once that you thought there would be nothing so amazing as flying and since you couldn't fly maybe you could pretend. I think you probably would have done something ridiculous like built wings that would have melted so I thought this would be a better idea. I've never thought of flying but you do seem to be the type to grow wings if only you could believe hard enough. _

_I hope you enjoying falling and that it feels like flying,_

_Santa_

Stiles continued to smile about his present even while his father looked distinctly worried.

**TBC…**

Finger crossed that I will actually get this finished for Christmas...


	7. Chapter 7

I didn't make it. It's almost (one minute) not Christmas Day anymore and as there are about four more chapters to this then I didn't make my deadline. I'm hoping to get it done for New Year's *fingers crossed*

**/ / / 7 \ \ \ **

"We're thinking this year we should just do a secret Santa so that we get a bigger and better present and only have to worry about one person. We've been talking about what we kind of spend on each person and figured if we limit it to say a hundred to one-fifty then we'll all be saving money too." Allison said, sitting across from Stiles in the booth. They were waiting for their burgers and Stiles was sipping at a milkshake while Allison stared at him with hopeful eyes.

"Okay," Stiles shrugged.

"Are you sure, we don't want to pressure you and you can sit out if you want."

Stiles frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Allison asked, her voice going high.

"You brought me out to my favourite burger place to suggest a secret Santa to me, something's wrong."

"I just…I mean…we just don't want you to think we aren't aware that-"

Stiles held up his hand. "Are you stressed because I'm not working at the moment and am therefore a leech who is living with my father?"

Allison coloured.

"Because, I am doing some data entry for the Sheriff's Department until I decide which job offer to take."

"Job offer?" Allison asked, frowning heavily at him.

"Umm, nothing."

"Stiles."

"I can't tell you until I tell…are you calling Scott?"

Allison nodded the phone already up to her ear.

Stiles sat back and sipped at his milkshake again. "You're going to have to buy me a sundae afterwards as well now."

Allison just smiled at him and flagged down the waitress to order something for Scott.

"Why did you have to have this conversation with me?" Stiles asked, curiously, a few minutes later.

"I lost the tournament of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock."

Stiles laughed at her. "Wait, my financial situation is a topic of discussion in the pack?"

Allison nodded but she still looked shifty.

"Both packs?" Stiles asked, with a sinking feeling. "Am I the reason for this?"

"God no," Allison said, honestly. "We talked about it last year but you'd already gone back to school and we didn't make a decision."

"Okay," Stiles said, going back to his milkshake.

Scott slid into the booth and pulled Stiles' milkshake over so that he could take a long, deep drink.

"That's mine."

"What job offers," Scott asked, ignoring Stiles' huff of indignation.

"My PhD advisor forwarded me some information about people who might be interested in hiring me."

"To do what?"

"Lecture, research, map the stars, exactly what you'd expect."

"Where?"

"A few different places."

Scott frowned at him fiercely. "Where?"

"A few different places."

"And how far away would these places be?"

"Well as they're at a few different places the distances vary a little too."

Scott flopped back into the booth seat and pouted.

"I'm probably not going to take the jobs in England or Prague."

"Prague?" Scott shouted causing the rest of the people in the restaurant to turn and look at them.

"Yes, stop screaming, it's just an offer I don't think I want to go anywhere that far away." Stiles said, hoping the half lie wouldn't be picked up.

"I don't want you to go again," Scott said.

Stiles twisted around to look at Scott more closely. "I can't really work here in Beacon Hills."

"How about we simply eat lunch and leave Stiles to make the right decision for himself." Allison suggested, looking at them both a little sadly.

Scott turned to look at Allison, she smiled at him sweetly.

"Okay."

Stiles bit back a smirk at the fact that he looked so petulant. He was a grown man but he still looked like he had at five when his mother told him he wasn't allowed to have another serving of cake.

"And you can come and visit me; maybe for your honeymoon."

Scott's eyes grew comically wide at the suggestion and Allison smirked at him. Scott was touchy about the subject but Allison couldn't care less at the moment – though she did take pleasure in his discomfort.

They ate lunch and then Stiles slipped out before Scott could pull him aside and bug him about his decision again.

Stiles parked his car and just as he was about to climb out of the jeep when he saw the shimmering gold paper propped up against his front door. Stiles rushed over to the present and then told himself that he had walked normally while he let himself into the house. It had been days since the last one and he had begun to assume that he wouldn't be getting another one. He dropped onto the couch and pulled the envelope off the outside, tracing a finger over the writing that he knew so well.

_Stiles, _

_With Christmas comes the New Year and change. Perhaps they are right and change is a good thing. I'm not sure that anymore change would be but regardless I wanted you to have something that will be with you and remind you that there are always people who are there for you. _

_Santa_

Stiles frowned; how could his Secret Santa possibly know about his job offers. He idly wondered for a moment if it was possible that it was his Dad that was giving him the gifts but then he shook the idea off. His dad wouldn't hide something like this and he was trying too hard to make Stiles believe that he wouldn't mind if Stiles took one of the overseas jobs. Stiles would like to – the idea of going and working in Belgium or Prague excited Stiles and he would really love the opportunity to study the universe and research. He didn't want to leave his dad though. Stiles was torn between both things he wanted and honestly the pack weren't making anything easier. The more time he spent back here, with them, and his dad, he simply didn't really want to leave them again.

Stiles shook his head and started to open the present in front of him. He had to smile as the bright box came into view. He had spent months and months and _months_ writing his thesis and he had never been able to concentrate on something like that without something else going on in the background. He had used old comedy shows streamed, quite illegally, on the internet to help him concentrate and had fallen in love with The Golden Girls. Between Golden Girls and MASH he'd written some of the most inspired sections of his thesis. He had also spent a long time talking to everyone about the show – some who looked at him strangely, like Nathan, and others who squealed and told them they wanted to be…mostly Sophia actually – with Blanche's sex life. Stiles cracked the box and slid the first disc in before he went to get snacks and something to drink to thoroughly enjoy the show for the rest of the day while Scott and Allison told everyone his news.

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**/ / / 8 \ \ \**

Stiles was lying in bed when something hit his chest. He looked down to see a wrapped box sitting on the bed next to him. He looked over at the open window and realised that someone had thrown the present in through the window. Stiles jumped up off the bed and walked over to the sill to look out into the bright sunlight but there was no one on the roof or down in the yard. Stiles sunk back onto his bed and looked at the wrapped present. He mulled over the logistics of getting the present in through his window. It would take either very good aim or werewolf type skills.

Stiles couldn't work out which, if any of them, would be going to all of this trouble and he knew their handwriting – he could forge Scott's horribly, spiky writing in his sleep and he'd spent way too long looking at Lydia's tiny, meticulous writing for him to not know hers by heart. Stiles shook the idea out of his head; he'd already been through every member of the pack before and dismissed them all. He truly wanted to know who the anonymous gift giver was because he wanted to thank them for being so thoughtful. Part of him was nervous about the idea of knowing too – what if the person who was giving him these gifts wasn't everything he hoped they were.

Stiles shook his head and threw himself back onto the mattress holding the gift up in the air above his head. He pulled the rolled up note from the gift and opened it.

_Stiles,_

_For those time when you really need to be formal._

_Santa_

Stiles frowned at the note and then started opening the gift that was resting on his chest. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw what was inside pulling the plastic wrapped box completely free and twisting it around so that he could see the helpful instructional pictures and the writing. His Secret Santa hadn't been nearly as racy before this and he couldn't help but find the addition of formalwear condoms to the list of gifts hilarious.

He didn't need to use one at the moment but at the same time he did want to pull one out and try it on. His mind idly wondered to the people he knew and sex but his mind got stuck on one particular person as it always tended to do. He shook the thought out of his head and placed the condoms in the bottom drawer of his bedside table. It had been a long time since he'd needed one perhaps he should do something about that.

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**/ / / 9 \ \ \ **

Stiles woke to the smell of bacon on Christmas morning. He would have grumbled about it but he really wanted bacon. He pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs to find his father in the kitchen scrambling eggs.

"I don't want to hear anything about the bacon," Sam said.

Stiles laughed and got a mug of coffee. "It's Christmas."

"So I finally found your weak spot."

Stiles laughed and sat down at the table. "Merry Christmas, Dad."

"Merry Christmas," Sam said, placing a plate of pancakes on the table. "Eggs will be ready in a minute."

"Do we have maple syrup?"

"Of course not."

"You are a terrible liar, Dad."

Sam shrugged and grabbed the maple syrup from the cupboard under the sink. Stiles laughed and cut a hole in the middle of his stack pouring the syrup in and then waiting while it soaked in. His dad walked over with the plate of bacon and the one of eggs for the table.

"What are you doing with the pack today?"

"Dinner, you're still working tonight?"

"Yep, I'm giving as many of them the night off as possible."

Stiles smiled and started eating, his father always worked at night on Christmas along with a couple of his deputies so that everyone got at least some part of Christmas off and Stiles knew for a fact that his dad would send the other guys home unless something happened which luckily it rarely did. Stiles and his father always did breakfast then presents then a movie or something before lunch with Melissa and Scott and then Sam and Melissa would go off to work. After that, when they were younger, Scott and Stiles would hang out for the rest of the day and pass out after too many video games and too much junk food. This year they were going to spend the night with the packs instead.

They ate breakfast and then Sam pushed the plates to the side and stared at Stiles.

"What?"

"Completely honest five minutes because it's Christmas."

"Okay."

"Which job would you take, forgetting about me and the pack and everything else? If it was just you and no one else was a factor, which job would you take?"

Stiles swallowed thickly and looked down at the table. "Belgium or Prague. The job here would be great – it would be interesting and I would learn things but I would like to take one of them."

Sam sighed but then he smiled brightly. "Then you are going to have to learn either Flemish or Czech or whatever other languages are spoken."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to take either of them."

"You should."

"I don't want to leave again."

"I think you would regret it if you don't and now is the best time to do it."

Stiles stretched out onto the table, slumping into the cold wood. His father patted him on the head. Stiles twisted around to find his dad eating another piece of bacon.

"Are you enjoying this?"

"I'm just thinking about all the bacon I will be able to eat while you're in Belgium eating waffles."

Stiles laughed and sat up. "I'm not sure."

"I am," Sam said, standing up and grabbing the dirty plates. "Though it ruins my present."

"What?"

Sam took the plates into the kitchen and Stiles grabbed everything else and followed him in.

"What are you talking about, Dad?"

"You'll find out when it's time to open presents."

"Dad." Stiles said…not whined, said.

"Okay, fine," Sam said, putting the dishes into the sink and walking into the lounge room. "We can open presents now."

Stiles laughed; they did this every year – his father liked to pretend he didn't love presents as much as Stiles did. Stiles put his things down and then followed his father into the lounge room to find him searching under the tree.

"I got you a few other things but you're going to have to wait until lunch with Melissa, Scott and the rest of them for the rest."

Stiles sighed and threw himself down onto the couch. "No fun."

Sam shook his head but he grabbed one long heavy present and a small one to put on the coffee table in front of Stiles. Then he looked down at Stiles questioningly. Stiles chuckled and stood up to collect the present he had bought for his dad.

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

"Thanks, Stiles."

They sat next to one another silently and opened their gifts. Stiles smiled to himself when he saw the present hiding under the wrapping paper.

"These are so cool," he gushed, spreading them out on the coffee table.

"I thought the Storm Troopers would be riding in the back."

Stiles smiled at his father, catching a moment of wistfulness on his face. Stiles frowned in reaction but his father just smiled at him widely.

"Shouldn't they be driving Darth Vader around?" Stiles asked, forcing his voice to be steady.

Sam made a face. "You don't think Darth Vader would insist on driving?"

Stiles laughed. "Yeah, probably."

Stiles looked down at the Darth Vader floor mats, the right size for the front of his jeep and the Storm Trooper floor mats for the back of the car. He couldn't wait to put them in and he told his father as much.

"Ahh, but how long will you even have the jeep?"

"Dad, I'm not leaving tomorrow."

"But, you are leaving."

"I never said that."

Sam smiled at him and started opening his own gift – a ticket to go and see the Rolling Stones next month, one for each of them. "These are great."

"I bought them months ago and you know how terrible I am at keeping secrets so I hope you're suitably impressed."

"Very," Sam said seriously.

They watched the first Hobbit movie, with Stiles' special brand of commentary until Scott came over.

"Mum is on her way with the food," Scott said, walking in carrying pie, Allison walking behind him.

Stiles' dad was a fine cook so long as it was over boiled veggies and meat - to his credit the meat was always great. Christmas was a little beyond his abilities so Stiles had done a lot of their cooking while he'd been living here but as soon as he'd left he knew Melissa had started inviting his dad over for dinner occasionally and she had insisted on cooking for Christmas this year instead of Stiles. Stiles had offered but she'd waved him off.

A few minutes later Melissa, James and the twins arrived and she lifted an eyebrow at Scott and Stiles until they both jumped to and started unpacking the car.

"Holy shit. Are we feeding the army?"

"Mum's been really excited about cooking this year but she won't tell me why."

"Dad said she insisted that you came over here this year." Stiles commented. Normally, whomever did the cooking also hosted the lunch but this year Melissa had wanted to drag all the food to Sam's instead.

"Yeah. I don't know."

Stiles and Scott carried the rest of the food in while Allison kept her brother and sister-in-law entertained.

"James, can you go and get the presents?"

James nodded and started walking past Scott and Stiles while Beth and Tim perked up.

"Presents?" They chorused.

"Not until after lunch. Just like every year."

They both groaned together and then bounced over to Sam and begged him to take them out into the backyard and play with Stiles' old lacrosse equipment. Sam agreed and before long he and James had taken them both out while Stiles helped Melissa re-heat where needed and Scott and Allison arranged all the gifts under the tree that James hadn't had time to bring in.

They sat down to a loud lunch with Beth and Tim bouncing between their place at the table next to Scott and everyone else asking questions and pulling poppers as soon as they could get away from James' watchful eye. Stiles liked Christmas more now, it had always been small but kids and noise and family made it something more and better and he never minded that Beth would steal stuffing off his plate or that Tim would cheat to win the Christmas cracker goodies. They ate until they were too full and then Scott and Stiles cleared away, as was tradition, while everyone else spread out on the couches. Beth and Tim played a loud, argumentative game of snap on the floor waiting, without patience, for the moment they were allowed to start handing out the presents.

The moment Stiles and Scott joined everyone else the twins were up and turning pleading eyes on their parents.

"You have to hand them out to everyone before you can open anything," James said, grinning down at them. He was tall and blonde and seven years younger than Melissa but he was calm and he'd manage to pass all the tests Scott, Stiles and Isaac had put him through.

They bounced around rushing...

"Don't run inside," Melissa scolded, dragging their speed back to almost a walk.

...between the presents under the tree and the people, handing out gifts. Then they collapsed onto their little piles of gifts with unhidden glee.

"You weren't supposed to get me anything," Stiles said, leaning over to Scott.

"That's a pack thing, and don't think I didn't notice the present from you and your dad."

Stiles smirked and shrugged.

"You can't really call me out on it then, can you?" Scott said.

"Of course I can. But, this is family and that's pack."

"Exactly," Scott agreed.

Stiles opened the gift from Scott and Allison and then stood up to put it on immediately.

"Now you have to call me Dr Stiles." Stiles said proudly.

"I really don't," James said, smirking.

"Well obviously I will leave the surgery to you and all but I worked had for those two letters."

"We'll call you Dr Stiles if you go and get the dessert organised." Melissa offered.

Stiles beamed. "Deal."

He stood up, still wearing the white lab coat with _Dr Stiles_ embroidered on the breast pocket. He put out the dessert onto the table while the rest of them opened presents, showing them to him as he went. As soon as he was done he stepped back and collided with two small bodies behind him.

"I haven't said you could come and eat yet."

"But, Stiles," Beth begged, her voice turning whiny at the end.

"No, you ask your mother."

Beth sighed at him melodramatically. Tim turned and rushed over to Melissa instead.

"After you've packed up all of the wrapping paper."

Stiles watched them as they ran around, cleaning, faster than they had probably ever done so before and then they rushed to the table going straight for the ice cream and pie.

"I really don't miss dealing with that much energy," Sam said, smiling at Melissa.

"It's keeping me young," Melissa said happily. "And in a few years they'll be teenagers…"

Sam laughed.

"I'm not sure I appreciate that gleeful expression." Melissa said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Stiles shunted Scott further down the table so he could get to the pie. Scott glared at him but Stiles just smiled, planted his feet and scooped himself up some ice cream.

They ate dessert and then Melissa had to go into work for her shift and Sam had to get ready for his shift so Stiles, Scott and Allison settled down to play video games while James took the twins home.

"I like these Christmases better," Stiles said, destroying Scott's character.

"You're going to have to come back for Christmas next year then." Sam said, walking into the room – wearing his uniform and fiddling with his belt.

"Come back?" Scott asked, turning on him with a pissed off expression.

"I'm-"

"He's going to take the Belgium job," Sam said, overriding him.

"Dad, I haven't made my decision."

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. "I knew it was Belgium over Prague. You should take it."

"If you want to take it then you should," Scott threw in.

"I haven't decided."

"But you want it?" Allison asked, quietly.

Stiles looked at all of them, not sure what he was supposed to say.

"Stiles…"

"I want the job, but I haven't even contacted them yet, they might have changed their minds."

Scott's face was a mask of disbelief.

"When are you going to contact them?" Sam asked.

"Tomorrow," Scott prompted.

Stiles sighed, he felt railroaded but he also felt like they were forcing him to do something he wanted. In all honesty, as much as he loved being him and being with both packs, he had managed to remain friends with them even while he had been away at university and Belgium couldn't be any worse.

"Tomorrow," Stiles agreed, reluctantly.

"I'm off," Sam said, "I'll see you in the morning, Stiles."

"Bye, Dad."

Sam left and they followed him out an hour later.

"Why is Derek having Christmas?" Stiles asked, "he barely likes Christmas."

"Linda and Cora claimed cooking the meal and Derek offered his place; I don't know why." Allison offered. "I made them a pie."

"What flavour?"

"Apple and berry with sour cream lattice pastry and coffee liqueur cream."

"I say we start with dessert."

"Cora will murder you."

Stiles laughed, knowing it was true.

They arrived and Stiles went into the kitchen to help while the rest of the pack were doing something in the lounge room.

"Have you made a decision about what you're going to do now?" Lydia asked him.

"No."

"Lie!" Cora pointed out.

Stiles sighed. "Why can't people just leave me alone on Christmas?"

"We like you too much," Isaac offered, breezing through the kitchen to grab a bottle of water on his way out the back. "We're running."

"Be there soon," Cora said, "Stiles?"

"Yeah, I'll do it."

"Thanks," she said, throwing her arms around him, she held him close though and whispered in his ear. "Just ask and then you might have some company."

"What?"

Cora sighed at him and left the kitchen out the back door.

"What was she talking about?" Stiles asked, turning to Lydia.

Lydia stared at him and then shook her head. "No idea."

Stiles went back to what he'd been doing not sure why most of the pack felt the overwhelming need to hide things from him.

"When will lunch be ready?" Stiles startled and looked up at Derek sharply.

"Ask Lydia, I'm just her serf."

"Always," Lydia said, "about an hour."

"Do you need any of them to help?"

"We can manage." Lydia said, though Derek's eyes were on Stiles.

Derek nodded and yanked off his shirt before striding out of the back door, heading for the woods and their two pack run.

"Do the packs spend as much time together normally?"

"As they have been since you came back, finally?"

"Yes."

Lydia pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Probably a little less than since you've been home but we've missed you."

Stiles smiled at her and went back to turning the roast vegetables.

"Oh God," Lydia said, accusingly. "You've leaving again."

Stiles opened his mouth but Lydia shook her head.

"You're leaving again."

"I haven't decided."

"You've always been a terrible liar," Lydia said, walking over to hug him. "I'll visit you."

Stiles slumped down and hugged Lydia back; resigned to everyone knowing his decisions before he had had a chance to actually make them. "I haven't decided yet."

"I know."

"I might stay here."

"You were never going to stay here, you were meant to leave at least for a while."

"I was meant to leave? You're Lydia – genius, you were supposed to leave and win the Fields Medal."

Lydia smiled in that enigmatic way she had. "I will."

Stiles squinted at her but she just smiled and stepped back to return to her gravy. Stiles couldn't drag her back into conversation and they ended up turning Christmas carols on while they cooked instead until the pack returned dragging the smell of snow and cold and pine into the house with them. Stiles shivered as Derek walked past him the cold rolling off the beta's skin.

"Wash your hands and faces and then sit at the table," Cora instructed.

Stiles smiled to himself while the wolves all moved to follow her instructions. Stiles left the last minutes preparations to Cora and went out to claim a place at the table. They sat together and ate and talked; three or four conversations going on all at once while they were eating more food than should be humanly possible.

As soon as they were done Cora and Lydia had Boyd and Isaac up and taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

"Presents," Derek said, and everyone stood to move into the lounge room.

In the end they just sat around and talked for a long time, pie and ice cream and homemade mince pies, thank you Boyd, out on the coffee table in the middle that they could pick at while they talked. Stiles was thankful that the conversation about what he was planning to do in the new year was not one of the ones discussed.

"I think it is time for presents," Boyd said finally. His voice was quiet but like always he tended to cut through any noise regardless.

"Excellent," Cora said, bounding up. "Since we're doing a Secret Santa one present at a time. This one is for," she went straight for a shapeless bulky present wrapped in brown paper, "Stiles, from Derek."

Stiles twisted around to look at Derek who was staring just past him. "You had me?"

Derek nodded.

"Thank you."

Derek's eyes found his and the left side of his mouth quirked. Stiles might have missed it if they hadn't been sitting right next to one another. He was dragged back when Cora dropped the gift into his lap and for a beat Stiles stared at it dumbly. Stiles twisted the present around and frowned – no card. He shook it off, not that surprised that Derek wouldn't bother with a card. He pulled at the brown paper it had been wrapped in and found soft, worn leather beneath. He looked up at Derek sharply.

"Derek?"

The werewolf was staring at him intensely, his green, grey eyes flicked up to Stiles' face.

"Finish opening it," Cora prompted.

He pushed the last of the paper away and shook the leather out until everyone could see the butter soft leather jacket.

"That…" Lydia started, trailing off.

"I believe she was going to say cost more than the money limit."

Derek shook his head. "A friend of mine makes them, he made mine. I know you've always coveted my jacket. I thought you may need it in Belgium."

Stiles froze. "Belgium? How'd you know?"

Derek's lips twitched. "I think you would like it there."

"You've been?"

Derek nodded and Stiles wanted to ask more when Cora interrupted.

"Oh, sorry, Stiles, I dropped the card."

Stiles reached out for it and then froze. He turned to look at Derek again who was still staring at him, though his gaze had turned questioning. Stiles' brain short circuited and he slid further over on the couch to catch Derek's lips with his own. The moment their lips touched he froze realising that he was kissing Derek. Then a warm, dry hand slid over the skin at his nape and the soft lips against his started moving and Stiles threw himself into the kiss before he had any more time to think about it.

Stiles pulled back when the need for oxygen became more pressing than the desire to taste more of Derek.

"What was that?" Derek asked, voice rough.

"If you need to ask it's a bit pathetic," Cora threw in.

"The presents," Stiles said, ignoring her.

"Presents?"

"That you've been giving me for the last six weeks, all those gifts…" Stiles trailed off, Derek's face growing more confused not less.

"I haven't been giving you anything."

**TBC…**

Because that's how I roll. Hopefully only one more chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**/ / / 10 \ \ \ **

Stiles swallowed and stood up, the jacket dropping to the floor in front of him as he stepped around the material and towards the door.

"Stiles."

He froze at Scott's voice.

"It was us, the pack, we knew you might leave so the packs got together and decided to try and remind you of what you mean to us."

"So you were all in on it?" Stiles asked, turning around but keeping his eyes from drifting over to Derek and looked at Scott instead.

"You say that like it was a malicious plot," Isaac said, coming to stand next to Scott.

"You all sent me amazingly sweet gifts without anything but notes all written by Derek how can I not think that you were all playing some elaborate prank?" Stiles asked, folding his arms over his chest protectively.

"I had nothing to do with this." Derek said.

"He didn't," Lydia said quietly, coming to stand in front of Scott, "Derek didn't know anything about it."

"Then how did he write the notes? Because, that was his writing and I know how the rest of you write."

"That was my idea," Cora admitted.

"Why?" Stiles asked, clamping his mouth shut when he heard the vulnerable note in his own voice.

"I knew you would leave," Cora said, her eyes flicking to her brother. "You have a PhD in astrophysics you weren't going to stay in Beacon Hills. So I went to Lydia and suggested we write the notes that were going to go along with the gifts."

"I wrote my own note," Boyd said.

Lydia turned to him. "And then I rewrote it before I took the present over."

"So it was just you and Cora?" Stiles asked.

"I was just trying to help Derek," Cora said, stepping towards Stiles.

Suddenly Derek was standing between Stiles and the rest of the room.

"Derek?"

"Out!" Derek ordered, his voice more a growl than anything else.

The wolves all perked up, he might not be an alpha anymore and he certainly wasn't the alpha of half of them but they listened to him anyway. They filed out of the room and the house while Stiles was held firm by the hand on his wrist. Cora was the last to go, her eyes worried as she looked back at them.

Derek held him until well after the wolves had left and then he let go, stepping back to sit on one of the couches.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because…" Stiles watched Derek closely, his voice fading away when he recognised the tense, scared look in Derek's eyes and remembered the way the other man had kissed him back. He couldn't be flippant about this, he realised with sudden terror that he would need to be honest here or he would always regret it. He may have read the whole situation wrong and he was probably about to embarrass himself more than he already had today but he took a deep breath and looked past Derek to answer. "I wanted to."

"Because you thought I had given you those gifts?"

"Because I…" Stiles swallowed thickly, he had never said this to anyone – he had even chosen silence when Scott and Lydia had called him out on this when he was younger. "I…I've always been…God, this is surprisingly hard. I like you, I liked you when I was a stupid teenager and you hated me, I left and I figured it would go away but it never really did and I…I wanted you to be the person giving me the gifts."

Derek was suddenly standing in front of him, staring at him intensely. "I never hated you."

"You hid it well then."

Derek's eyes flashed but they didn't leave Stiles' face. "I knew you would leave."

Stiles reached out for Derek only to have the alpha step back.

"Which you're doing. Enjoy Belgium."

"Wait!" Stiles lunged for Derek's arm, gripping his wrist tight.

Derek froze but he didn't turn back.

"I'm not actually going anywhere."

"But you will be."

Stiles felt his body heat. "Everybody keeps telling me that I'm leaving but I haven't even made a decision."

"Stiles," Derek voice was rough, "you have studied something that demands you move away."

Stiles wanted to argue, he wanted to say something but he'd been fighting against the fact he had done this to himself since he'd come home. His father and everyone else had been reminding him when all he really wanted to do was pretend he could come home and live here. It was exciting, the idea of going to Belgium and living there, working at the Royal Observatory, but it was also terrifying and Stiles was quite done with the idea of having to be mature about all of this. He didn't want to be alone out in the world and working full time and having to be a damned adult.

"I don't actually think I want to go," Stiles said quietly.

"I know you do."

"How?"

"You have a certain look when you are talking about something you want to do. Like when you started mentioning university and I knew you were going to leave."

"And I look like that now?"

"Every time people talk about it."

Stiles nodded but he refused to let go of Derek. "I haven't made a decision about that and now I have a chance at something I want and I'm not going to let it go so easily."

Derek looked relieved for a moment but then his face shuttered down.

"I will not stand between you and what you want."

"But I want you."

"I'll still be here."

Stiles gaped at him. "What?"

Derek didn't say anything, staring at Stiles instead.

"You'd just wait? That's…what you've been doing? You've been waiting for me?"

Derek's face tightened.

"I've been studying for years."

Derek's eyes flicked past him.

"I…you could have had me."

Derek's eyes opened wide.

"If you had have just said something you could have had me."

"I don't want only part of you."

Stiles couldn't have stopped that smile that spread over his face if he'd tried. "So have all of me."

"Just until you leave?"

"I'm certainly not letting you go when I've just learned that I can have you."

"I won't be the reason you stay."

"Please stop being noble," Stiles said. "It's going to be very hard to convince you if you're noble and stubborn."

Derek's face turned mulish and Stiles sighed.

"Derek, please." For just a moment Stiles was hit with the sudden realisation that he was actually standing here fighting for Derek to give him a chance. Never in a million fantasies had he actually expected to have a chance with Derek. And he was losing it before he'd even had it because Derek didn't want only part of him but…but, he'd wait. Stiles sunk down onto the coffee table behind him and Derek followed him for a step so their connection wasn't severed.

"Stiles."

"You can't honestly think you can tell me you are interested in me after all this time only to tell me I'm not allowed to…well, that's ridiculous." Stiles stood up and stepped into Derek's personal space, kissing him firmly, tempting the older man into kissing him back, walking them back towards the couch. Stiles didn't bother with a gentle fall just collapsing back onto the soft cushions and dragging Derek with him.

There was a loud whoop from outside and Derek yanked himself away from Stiles. He growled at the window and Stiles shook the lust induced cobwebs from his mind to stand up and walk next to Derek.

"Everyone listening in?"

"Of course," Derek growled.

Stiles was torn; he wanted to drag Derek back to the couch and burrow his way into Derek's defences, he wanted to ask the packs for more information about their little Secret Santa escapades, and he wanted to try and convince Derek to give them a chance in a way that wasn't likely to spook the alpha tomorrow.

Derek's head cocked to the side and his eyes flashed.

"What did they say?" Stiles asked.

Derek turned to look at him. "Nothing complimentary."

Stiles smiled and sighed before he walked over to the door. "Just come inside and stop annoying him."

The two packs trailed back inside and sat down. Stiles moved to stand in front of them, Derek still standing close to the window with his arms folded across his chest menacingly. "Right, explain now."

Lydia sighed at him and fidgeted on the chair. "We decided that you needed something to remind you how much you mean to us all."

"My idea," Scott offered, smiling.

"Yes," Lydia intoned sarcastically and sighed. "We each decided to find you a gift that had meaning for you and for the giver."

"That's sweet." Stiles conceded. "Let's go to the part that's not."

"Derek's in love with you," Cora offered.

"Cora," Derek reprimanded.

"Yes, because dry humping on the couch was hiding your feelings so well."

"We hadn't made it to dry humping," Stiles told her sharply.

Cora had the grace to look apologetic and then shuffled forward on the couch. "I knew he'd been waiting for you, just like everyone else did and he would have just kept pining at you while you were oblivious because he's emotionally stunted and doesn't know how to show he likes them. If I left it to Derek he would have found any number of excuses because he's convinced you'll leave and you probably will because why wouldn't you?"

Stiles could almost feel the waves of betrayal rolling off Derek behind him.

"I'm sorry, Derek, but you wouldn't have done anything and you deserve to at least have the chance, which you would never had if I hadn't gone to Lydia."

Stiles turned his eyes on Lydia.

"And I knew you had had a crush on Derek and I thought it might help so we came up with a plan to rewrite the notes."

"We thought you would know Derek's writing," Cora continued. "But you didn't."

"When has Derek ever had any reason to write me anything?" Stiles asked.

Stiles watched Cora bite her lip to stop herself from saying something and Stiles silently thanked her.

"How did you do it so well?" Stiles asked Lydia.

She smirked at him. "I'm a good forger, I could do it with any of your writing."

"Disturbing," Isaac said quietly.

"Your plan to get Derek and Stiles together was to make him think Derek had given him all of those presents?" Jackson asked. "I put effort into that and you were going to give someone else credit for it?"

"Try not to be selfish every minute of your life," Lydia threw at him.

"Okay," Stiles said, cutting in over the top of them, "I see what you were trying to do and how you did it. But, I want to know who gave me what. I figure the condoms were from you, Lydia."

"Yeah," she smiled, then she looked at Derek, "you're welcome."

Stiles sighed; she really didn't have any self-preservation instincts sometimes.

"I got you the chess set," Allison said, "I'd seen it a couple of months before the whole thing came up and I was going to give it to you for Christmas anyway."

"I love it."

Allison beamed at him. "Good."

"I wanted you to jump out of a plane," Jackson said. "You're welcome."

Stiles shook his head at Jackson.

"I got you the 'Golden Girls' box set," Danny smirked, "because you bored me to death about it."

Stiles smirked at Danny. "I loved it."

"And you've watched it?"

"Of course."

"I knitted you a scarf," Boyd offered quietly.

"You knitted that yourself?" Lydia asked, turning to him.

Boyd nodded.

"How did I not know you knit?"

Boyd shrugged.

"Aren't you basically living together now?" Stiles asked.

Lydia shrugged.

Stiles smirked at her. "That leaves 'Good Omens' and Artoo Potatoo."

"And mine," Scott said.

"Of course yours," Stiles said, the smile falling off his face for a moment. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome."

Stiles turned away from him and looked at Cora and Isaac, sitting close on the couch, unable to decide which of them gave him what gift.

"Good Omens," Cora offered.

"And obviously Artoo Potatoo to replace the one I broke." Isaac offered.

Stiles smiled at them all.

"Don't get mushy," Jackson warned.

"I want to thank you all, I appreciate what you've all done and-"

"Seriously," Jackson interrupted. "Don't be a girl."

"Perhaps you should wade out of that mire of sexism and think before you speak," Cora said, eyes flashing. "Also, I want to hear Stiles thank us so that we can go and they can have sex."

"We're not having sex," Derek said.

Stiles had turned around to look at Derek who was quite deliberately not looking at Stiles.

"Why not?"

Stiles turned around when he realised that it was Jackson who had spoken. Everyone else was looking at him too.

"What?" Jackson asked. "Derek's my alpha; I do actually want him to be happy and Stiles is apparently a factor in that."

"Wow, Danny, you're so lucky to have found yourself a romantic like Jackson." Allison commented.

"I know, right?" Danny said, sliding an arm through Jackson's elbow anyway.

"Stiles is taking the job so we're not going to be doing anything."

"Do I get a say?" Stiles asked.

"Are you taking the job in Belgium?"

Stiles looked up at the ceiling and screamed. "I don't know, okay? I want to but it's terrifying."

"Stiles," Scott said.

"Don't worry about it." Stiles said, waving his hand. The pack all looked at him with something close to concern so Stiles looked away from them. "Can we at least talk about this?"

"No." Derek said, firmly.

"That's ridiculous," Scott said.

"Derek, you want him and I got him to tell you he was interested. He's offering you all of this and you're still going to be an idiot?"

"He's going to Belgium," Derek growled, low and rough, his eyes flashing dangerously at his sister.

"Well, honestly," Cora said, rolling her eyes. "Why don't you just go with him?"

**TBC…**

That was going to be the last chapter but Derek is being a pain in the backside so there will be one more.


End file.
